


And Please Be Calm Now

by mywholecry



Series: and please be calm now [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dogdaysofsummer, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywholecry/pseuds/mywholecry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius struggles because he needs something right now that he can’t put a name on, arching up just to have Remus press back down, holding him still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Please Be Calm Now

**Author's Note:**

> Written for dogdaysofsummer, August 2009.

They almost die, and Sirius can’t stop moving, fingers dancing over the length of Remus’ arm while they lie next to each other on the floor of their flat, trying to learn how to breathe again. Remus squirms uncomfortably, their arms brushing, swearing under his breath.

“Stop, would you,” he murmurs, and Sirius doesn’t, slides fingertips down a bone, pressing into the inside of his elbow, until Remus makes a frustrated noise low in his throat and jumps at him. They wrestle nonsensically for a few short minutes, but Remus is stronger, has always been stronger even when it seemed he shouldn’t be, and he gets Sirius with his back on the floor. Sirius struggles because he needs something right now that he can’t put a name on, arching up just to have Remus press back down, holding him still. Their hips press together, and he’s been hard for the last minute, but this is different. Remus’ eyes are impossibly wide above him, the only sign that something’s wrong.

“We almost got killed by crazy people who are more than likely related to me twenty minutes ago,” Sirius says, forcing himself to smile like there’s not a tiny voice in his head telling him to push Remus off and run away very quickly, “and now you’re panicking?”

Remus’ fingers flex uselessly on his shoulders.

“I’m not sure I know what I’m doing,” he says, honestly.

“Well, this. . .” Sirius replies. “This is nice.”

“Oh,” Remus says, then leans down to kiss him, fingers digging into the skin below his collarbones, thumbs stroking over the curve of his shoulders.“This, then?”

*

They circle each other at first, because it makes sense but sometimes it’s too much, that scary space between what Sirius thinks he needs and what Remus is willing to give him. They share a bed, but they can’t talk to each other about it. They have sex, but neither of them knows what it means.

And then Sirius gets in a fight with James at dinner one night, and Lily looks away from it, her food still untouched, and Remus just grabs Sirius’ knee under the table and says, “Sirius, _stop._ ”

And Sirius does.

*

They’re lying in bed, face-to-face and their noses brushing, the sheets pulled off because there’s nothing but summer heat coming from their window, when Remus asks, “so you want me to tell you what to do?” really, really quietly, like he’s afraid one of them is going to run away.

“I’m not actually sure what I want,” Sirius says, wrinkling his nose. “But I think.” he pauses, unsure, then bites the corner of his lower lip. “I think I like it when you get angry a little. . .too much.”

“Well,” says Remus.

“Yeah,” says Sirius.

“That should be interesting,” says Remus.

Sirius grins at him, moving forward so their noses slide against each other, their lips almost touching.

*

Sirius talks too much in moments that should be quiet, sits too close, moves too much. Sometimes, he does it on purpose, but mostly he’s just frantic. It’s something strong and tugging inside of him, something that makes him feel like if he doesn’t stop moving, then nobody can catch him, that he’ll live forever.

“I swear to fucking god,” Remus says, rolling his eyes when Sirius hasn’t stopped to catch a breath in five minutes, fingers tapping out a nervous tarantella on his knees. He stands up, crawls on top of Sirius in their crooked, shaky armchair, bites and kisses him quiet.

If Sirius is more likely to be nervous, lately, Remus is more likely to lose his once infinite patience. It’s kind of a win-win.

“Please,” Sirius whispers, into the wet juncture of their mouths, and, “Oh, fuck, seriously, fuck, Moony.”

“Quiet.” Remus presses a hand into Sirius’ shoulder, pushing him back hard enough that his eyes fly open, searching out Remus’ face. There’s a hesitance behind his eyes, dark brown and hot around the edges, and he gives him a half-smile, a question. Sirius nods, blushing faintly when Remus moves a hand to trace gently over his cheek, down his jaw so his fingers press lightly into his neck.

Remus moves away from him, and Sirius makes a sad noise in the back of his throat, following his movements. Dark eyes over Remus’ shoulder before he turns around again, looking straight at Sirius as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor.

“Get undressed?” Remus says, and it’s not meant to be a question, but he’s blushing just as much as Sirius, who scrambles to his feet to tear at his clothes. He stops when Remus puts a hand on his waist, moving to unbutton his jeans because Sirius is shaking too much to do anything but let him. It takes longer than it should, to get them both bare and standing in the middle of their living room, sweat already forming at the base of their shoulders, their hips.

“What,” Sirius whispers, “what do you want me to do?”

Remus looks at him for a long moment before moving forward hastily, pulling him close, breaking the moment hanging tense in the hot air between them.

“I don’t even know,” he says, a burst of sweet laughter than a harsh intake of breath when their cocks slide together and burn, when Sirius tightens his arm and moves, trying to make Remus do something, please, anything.

“Whatever you want,” Sirius says, clinging to his neck. “We’re never going to get what we want anymore, so just. . .whatever you want, Moony, _please_.”

Remus bites at the curve of his shoulder, the tight skin-and-bone, and Sirius sinks against him.

*

“You probably think I’m strange,” Sirius says, later, when they’ve gotten off the floor and collapsed on the sofa, tangled together. He’s not sure he’s ever going to move again.

“Probably,” Remus agrees, but he’s smiling with teeth against the back of Sirius’ neck, curled up close behind him. “But I’m kind of strange, too.”

And Sirius wants to tell him something crazy and true, like how they’re sort of perfect together, how he kind of loves him so much that it hurts to be away from him, how he wants Remus to hold him down and never let him up. Instead, he presses back against Remus and pulls his arm closer around his chest, hoping he gets the message.


End file.
